String
by thelandongrey
Summary: Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry have a complicated history and an even more confusing future. They must overcome a world of obstacles and critics to show that they truly belong together forever.    On Hiatus while I solidify the story line. Large updates will be forthcoming once that happens. I hope you stick around!
1. Prologue: Just Like Tacoma Narrows

Prologue: Just Like Tacoma Narrows

As she sits alone in her office, thumbing through her worn copy of "Why Buildings Fall Down", Quinn can't help but think about her own monumental collapse. She had been building an empire, her own work of art. After years of careful planning and tedious attention to detail, Quinn had realized her own art deco dream and poised herself to start construction. The foundation was poured and the walls were framed out, but just as the roof trusses were lifted into place the foundation shifted. She'd heard for years about how structures wobble before they give out, but all she felt was the crash. Steel ties fell around her, followed by wooden beams and thousands of shimmering nails. The floor beneath her cracked and split, swallowing her plans and leaving only dust on her feet. The concrete should have been solid, unbreakable.

What she didn't know is how the rain came down as the concrete cured, preventing it from setting. Her foundation was unstable, her masterpiece was crumbling before her eyes, and all she could do was stand frozen in her failure and wait for the rumbling to stop.

A/N: This is shaping up to be a long and involved story. I'm open to any feedback or commentary you may have and would love to hear input on where you see the story going in the future. I will be adding a few chapters to get things going before I settle into a steady uploading schedule. The narrative may start off slowly, but that is to establish the Quinn and Rachel verse I'm building so I can properly expand upon it in the future.

The general disclaimer is that I do not own Glee or any of the "Glee" characters used within this tale. Please note that this applies to all parts and chapters within.

That said, please enjoy and let me know what you think!


	2. Pouring the Foundation

Part 1: Pouring the Foundation

She found it in her messenger bag on the train. There was plain brown paper bag, holding only her favorite sandwich and a note saying "We like you". Taped in the bottom of the bag was a single Polaroid photo taken in front of the large stone wall in the dining room. Two bright faces smiled out at her - their bodies standing so closely the entire length of their torsos blurred together where they touched. She reached a cautious hand down into the bag and gently pried the photo away from the paper. Her thoughts drifted back to the moment the shutter clicked- the arm around her waist tightening in reassurance, the brown eyes pleading with her own , and the apprehension melting smile promising her everything was going to be ok.


	3. The Lost Girl

Chapter 1: The Lost Girl

Quinn approached the door of the unfamiliar home with an overnight bag and a pecan pie. The cool lakeside air brushed through her hair, causing a pleasant chill she missed during the unbearably hot summers in Lima. The stagnant heat of the landlocked town was suffocating and the pure clean breeze coming off the lake cooled her skin and calmed her anxiety. Rachel stepped up from behind her, humming to herself and drumming her keys against her denim clad thigh. She flashed a quick smile and reached out to push a stray lock of hair from Quinn's face, causing the girl to blush and look to the ground. They paused together on the top step of the front entry, Rachel slowly reaching out push the door open. Before she turned the handle, Quinn dropped her duffel and reached out, grabbing for her hand and stilling it against the metal lever. Rachel's eyes drifted up to meet her own. With a quick smile and a reassuring squeeze against the other girl's hand, she opened the door and led her guest into her childhood summer home.

Quinn stepped across the threshold and balked at the stunning house laid out before her. To the right was a small kitchen, with warm wood and rich earthy tones that immediately anchored the feeling of home. Through the back of the kitchen were a wall of windows and a screen door leading to the deck and down to the backyard, where Quinn could see a rather large black man plucking bright red tomatoes off the vine in a raised garden. Beyond the garden she saw the glittering lake. There was an old wooden dock at the end of the property and the water was dotted with sailboats in the distance. Sprawling from her left and out in front of her was a small entry room which bled into an open dining area. Beyond that was a bright living room that extended the entire width of the cozy house. The stairs were in the dead center of the open first floor and cut a steep path above the large stone hearth to the hidden second level. Looking to the double sided fireplace, she noticed another room on the opposite side of the stairs, the glass enclosure allowing her small glimpses of comfortable looking furniture and a wall stocked with what looked like vinyl records. Her jaw dropped and she stood stock still, until a smiling bearded man descended the steep stairway to greet them.

"You must be Quinn! We've heard so much about you! Rachel has been on edge all week waiting for you to get here. She told us all about you and even though I wasn't thrilled to hear all about the terrible things that you used to do to our little gold star, I'm excited to get to know the brand new you. Please keep in mind that if you ever even think about reverting back to your old ways Rachel's daddy and I, although I'll admit it must be quite an amusing sight to see, are very well versed in how to use power tools and I'm sure our combined landscaping skills would ensure nobody would ever find your body." Rachel's jaw dropped as she shot Quinn a look halfway between mortification and apology. Quinn stood frozen in the entryway unsure of how to address this man, Rachel's father she guessed. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, struggling to find the words to defend herself and coming up with nothing. Her mouth clicked shut when she realized she'd never be able to sneak a word in edgewise anyhow. "And is that a pie? Rachel, did this girl really bring us an entire pie? Is she trying to butter me up so I don't judge her too harshly? Did you make it yourself? What kind is it? Goodness, is that all you brought? Are there more bags in the car? Can I help you?"

"H! Give the girl a little room to breathe, why don't you? Pardon him, sweetie, he doesn't get out much." Quinn looked away from the babbling man to the catch a sly grin on the face of the man from the garden she'd seen earlier. He walked in from the back deck carrying a small basket of freshly picked summer squash and tomatoes in one hand and gave a small wave with the other. Setting the basket down on the butcher block island in the kitchen, the large man made his way into the great room.

He walked over to stand before the girls and extended a weathered hand "I'm Leroy, Rachel's Daddy, and this is her other father Hiram." The man leaned in close, as though sharing an intimate secret, "he talks too much" he stage whispered before letting out an amused chuckle.

Quinn felt a small smile creeping onto her lips and extended her unoccupied hand, eyes widening as the large man's hand completely swallowed her own, and slowly shaking it in greeting. As Leroy playfully pulled her into a hug, she glanced to the smaller man who was scrutinizing her subtly from beside his husband. Her eyes lifted to his, and she let out a small gasp, thankfully unnoticed by the three other people in the room, as she recognized a pair of oddly familiar brown eyes looking back at her. She shyly pulled away from the large man's hug and extended her hand to Rachel's other father.

"H..Hello. I'm Quinn, uh, Fabray, but I guess you already knew that." She trailed off at the end of her awkward introduction. Hiram stared at her proffered hand for a moment before extending his own in a weak handshake. Once he dropped his hand, Rachel reached between them to grasp Quinn's now empty hand, slowly threading their fingers together with a reassuring squeeze.

"Dad, Daddy, give her a chance." She offered Quinn a small smile, then slid her hand under the pie box, making sure her entire hand made contact with the startled girl's before lifting it slowly and extending it to her Dad. "She brought you her famous pecan pie. She made it for me last year and it was one of the most delicious things I've ever had" Rachel's eyes flickered to Quinn's soft smirk before continuing up to her soulful eyes "you'll love it, I swear. But seriously, its pie, what's not to love?" She finished before shaking her head almost imperceptibly and turning her gaze back to her Dad's.

Hiram's gaze was shifting between the pie, the girls' joined hands, and the dreamy look upon Quinn's face. He reached out slowly with both hands, gripping the sides of the box before lifting it and turning on his heels to place it on the kitchen counter.

"Rachel, help Quinn take her bags up to the guest room while I start dinner. Leroy, you can help me." Rachel's gaze dropped solemnly before she reluctantly let go of the other girl's hand and picked up the small red and black duffel on the floor by her feet and motioned for Quinn to follow her up the steep staircase. She briefly met her Daddy's gaze as she started up the first step to see him offer her an apologetic smile before turning and joining his husband in the kitchen.


	4. Girl, Discovered

Chapter 2: Girl, Discovered

"I'm sorry about the interrogation earlier. I swear I've never seen them like that before; they must really like you to be so interested in your entire life. I mean, when I occasionally hosted post-performance parties at our house in Lima they'd usually just grunt out a few words of greeting and disappear into the living room" Rachel laughed softly, staring off into the deep midnight blue sky dreamily "you seem to have made quite the impression." She shifted onto her side to look at the shadowed face beside her in the darkness. "How are you feeling? Are you ok?"

Quinn huffed out a sharp breath, idly noticing the slight chill in the air as she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the late summer air. She didn't answer, shrugging her shoulders instead. Her thoughts were running wild, unable to pin down any one thing and finding impossible to catch her breath.

The two girls were stretched out on the balcony attached to Rachel's bedroom. A large fluffy blanket was spread out beneath them as they lay together, staring up at the stars shimmering above. The air was cool with a moist lakeside breeze and the girls lay close together to stave off the need for a blanket to cover their bodies. Quinn stared off into space, breathing steadily in and out and listening to the water lap against the shoreline a short distance from the house. She could feel the closeness of the small girl beside her and wrung her hands together on her stomach to stop herself from reaching out to take the girl's small hand in her own. She was shocked and warily amused at the silence she was getting from the usually chatty diva but brushed it off as she decided to enjoy it while it lasted. Their newfound relationship (if you could call it that) was built on words typed, not spoken, and though Quinn had become accustomed to the constant flow of words coming from the other girl, she was not yet used to hearing them out loud.

Their relationship had begun slowly, their shared AP Chemistry class providing a platform for note passing and stealthy text messages as they began to learn about each other. By the time summer vacation rolled around, they were inseparable; at least virtually. The two spoke constantly about anything and everything via text message, email, chat, and good old fashioned paper notes (as Rachel insisted on leaving cute little messages folded neatly on brightly colored paper in Quinn's locker). But now, lying side by side, Quinn was nervous, terrified really, and completely convinced she could in no way live up to the person Rachel had gotten to know so well behind a screen. She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep, cleansing breath before allowing her eyes to open again and reaching for her phone in her jeans pocket. Rachel cocked her head to one side and shielded her eyes as the bright screen lit up and cast sharp rays of light over her face. She looked on silently as Quinn tapped out a message on the touch screen, hesitating for the briefest moment before hitting the green "send" button. Just as she was about to ask what Quinn was up to, the familiar feeling of her phone vibrating in her pocket alerted her of a new unread message.

With a quick and curious glance at Quinn's face, Rachel reached into her pocket and produced her phone; clicking open the message as Quinn tried to divert her eyes from the obvious confusion on the brunette's face. Rachel's eyebrows furrowed gently as her eyes lit up in realization.

**QF:** I'm afraid. And nervous. And you smell really amazing.

The blonde turned on her side, facing away from the smaller girl when she heard a faint chuckle escape the girl's lips. Following the instincts that had become second nature over the past few months, Rachel typed out a reply before settling in for a long chat with the nervous girl.

**RB:** What are you afraid of? There is no reasonable explanation for your nervousness, I assure you. Also, thank you, I shower at least twice a day (but you already knew that). I'm hoping for a little levity, but if that isn't possible in your current state, please let me know.

She sat up on the blanket, pulling her body over to one of the deck chairs and leaning her weight back against it.

**RB**: Additionally, I happen to think you smell pretty amazing yourself. I love the scents of lavender and mint individually, but on you they are a downright sinful combination.

Quinn perked up a bit at Rachel's message, feeling some of the pressure of their face to face interaction fade as she hid behind the protectiveness of her phone. Following the brunette's example, she moved to a sitting position beside the smaller girl and leaned back against the deck chair. Settling in for a long talk, she pulled the part of the blanket they had been laying on up over their legs, wrapping in them a security blanket of warmth and intimacy.

**QF**: This is strange, I know, considering I'm sitting right next to you. I'm just nervous about saying everything out loud. I know it's real, but saying it out loud would make it really real. Does that make sense? You know so much about me and I'm afraid of how much more vulnerable I'll be once we've said everything for real.

**RB**: Quinn, you have nothing to be afraid of. I promise I won't hurt you, and I swear I'll do everything in my power to protect us and our relationship from whatever the world may throw at us. We can't stop anyone from judging us, but I can make sure you know that I will never judge you and I'll always be there to calm your fears.

**QF**: That is what I'm talking about exactly. You and I are so free with words when we write them down, but what happens when there isn't that filter? What happens when I start to speak before I think? I'm afraid of the things I might blurt out at you unsuspectingly. What if I say something accidentally that makes you want to run? I know we've been talking like this for months, and I feel like you know me better than anyone. What if I can't live up to that expectation in real life?

Rachel reached out her hand on instinct, placing it comfortingly on Quinn's knee underneath the blanket. Without thinking, Quinn let her hand drop to tangle her fingers with the smaller girl's, reveling in the warmth and comfort of her touch.

**RB**: That's the beauty of it all, Q. you can never let me down because I know deep down what you're thinking. Through our exchanges these past few months we've gotten to know each other on a much deeper level that you may realize. I know you say what you mean because you take the time to put your feelings into words before you say them. I have every confidence you'll be able to continue with that trend in the spoken word.

**QF**: I'm glad to see you have such confidence in me.

**RB**: I also know I'm going to love it when you start speaking to me for real because you have an extremely pleasant speaking voice and I'm excited to get to hear more of it.

**QF**: Well in that case, I may hold off a little longer and make you wait for it. ;)

Rachel put her phone down on the chair behind her head and looked up at the teasing glint in Quinn's eyes. She shook her head slowly with a grin on her face and gave the blonde's hand a squeeze before scooting closer, until their sides were touching along their length, and laying her head gently down on Quinn's shoulder. Closing her eyes and inhaling the coconut and sunscreen combination that was unique to the other girl, she smiled tenderly and let her head fall to the side, softly nestling with Rachel's. As they sat snuggled together on the balcony, they both felt a subtle shift in the nature of their relationship. They'd never been this physically close to one another before, never felt the warmth of the other's touch or the softness of their skin. Unconsciously and without the other knowing, both girls leaned into the embrace, Quinn extending her arm around the smaller girl's shoulders as Rachel slipped her arm around the blonde's lower back. They held each other tenderly - hearts picking up speed, fingers dancing over one another, and small sweet smiles being cast off into the darkness – until Quinn finally worked up the courage to open her mouth and speak to the other girl.

"R-Rachel?" Quinn stammered over her the brunette's name as she realized she wanted to speak to the girl but had no idea what to say. Now that her words were out there, she launched an inner battle over which words were the most appropriate for the situation. Should she say she's having a good time? Or just simply say thank you for the invitation to spend time at her family's summer getaway? Or maybe just tell her she's the most beautiful girl she's ever seen? Her inner dialogues continued as Rachel felt her body tense and begin to shiver.

"Yes, Quinn?" the brunette eyed her companion carefully. The girl seemed to have retreated back into her own body and a war seemed to be raging behind nervous hazel eyes. "Quinn, are you ok?" Receiving no response from the girl, Rachel pulled out from Quinn's embrace and lifted her hand to the other girl's cheek hoping to bring her consciousness back. "Quinn, darling, talk to me" she demanded softly.

Feeling the soft caress of Rachel's hand on her cheek, Quinn leaned into her, closing her eyes and reveling in the comfort of her touch. When she opened her eyes to see concerned brown eyes pouring into her own, she opened her mouth to speak. After a moment with no sound coming out, she closed her mouth again. She tried again, managing to choke out a few strangled vowels this time, before hanging her head in shame. Rachel, feeling the girl's nervousness, ran a reassuring hand over her arm as she moved her other hand from her cheek to under her chin. She gently lifted the blonde's hanging head to gaze into her eyes once again. "Quinn, you can tell me anything, you know that."

As if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders, Quinn let out a sigh of relief. Moving a hand to Rachel's back as she willed her eyes to convey every ounce of emotion she was feeling as she finally opened her mouth and quietly let out the words she'd been so afraid to say.

"I love you, Rachel."

She felt more than heard the brunette's small gasp at her confession and quickly dropped her eyes back to her lap. She started to pull away from their comfortable embrace when Rachel placed her hand in her own, stilling her escape and bringing their eyes together once again.

"Do you mean that?" the small girl asked, barely above a whisper.

Quinn looked inquiringly into the other girl's eyes, feeling slightly taken aback and more than a little concerned at her question.

"I've never meant anything more in my entire life."

Rachel searched the blonde's eyes for any sign of conflict or doubt, and finding none, a smile slowly spread against her delicate features. Their relationship had once been full of pure animosity and hurt, but the past few months had shown her a new side of the typically brash cheerleader she was sure nobody else ever got to see. She considered herself lucky, blessed with the calming presence of the graceful girl, but never once considered the possibility of her feelings being returned. She shook her head lightly, returning her gaze to the imploring hazel eyes before her. As those eyes began to tear, she noticed the other girl had begun to tremble under her touch and was once again slowly trying to wriggle out of her grasp.

"Rachel, please say something. I'm starting to freak out. Oh, God, what the hell was I thinking?" The blonde started talking to herself as she pulled out of Rachel's grasp and ducked her face into both of her hands. Hiding the wet streaks on her cheeks and muttering under her breath, Rachel looked on in disbelief at how easily the girl's confidence had been shattered before snapping out of her haze and moving to kneel before Quinn and softly calling her name.

"Quinn. I need you to look at me, please. Quinn, please, I really need to talk to you about something and I'd really rather do it if you're here with me." The upset girl merely shrugged and shook her head, causing Rachel's heart to break a little in her chest. Without saying a word, Rachel reached for Quinn's trembling hands, pulling them away from her face. She reached up her own hands, cradling Quinn's face gently and lifting head from her knees, willing her to look up into the concerned brown eyes waiting for her. She gave the blonde a reassuring smile before moving in a bit closer, using her thumbs to wipe away the tears falling from haunting hazel eyes. Quinn's eyes flashed in confusion for a brief moment, watching in rapt attention as Rachel's mouth moved steadily closer to her own. Her gaze flickered between the loving brown eyes fixated on her own, the feel of soft hands wiping away her pain, and the slow dart of a pink tongue, wetting the full lips before her.

As their noses brushed lightly, Quinn's eyes fluttered closed in anticipation. She felt Rachel's breath mixing with her own, the warmth radiating off of the girl's hands on her face, but no contact between their lips was made. Slowly, pulling back just a fraction of an inch, Quinn opened her eyes and found Rachel's immediately. Smiling, the brunette spoke softly, her words whispering off of Quinn's lips and causing a shudder to run up the length of her body.

"Quinn, I want this. I want you. You're all I've wanted since the first note slipped into my hands out of the blue. Truth be told, I've been in love with you for years. I just needed you to catch up."

With that, Quinn closed the gap between their lips, pressing a firm yet impossibly soft kiss upon the delectable lips before her. The kiss was still, at first, but electric. Current coursing through their bodies, making each nerve stand at attention as their mouths slowly began to move against one another. Rachel opened her mouth slightly, moving her lips sensuously over the blonde's as her body began to respond to the passion she was feeling. Their lips slid together in a delicate dance, surging with new discovery. Quinn's arms lifted from her lap to wrap around Rachel's back, pulling her closer into her body, needing to feel the warmth of the girl in her arms. Rachel went willingly, sliding one hand into gloriously blonde hair and letting the other slowly drop to settle over the pounding heart within the other girl's chest. Quinn took Rachel's bottom lip between her own; sucking on it briefly then gave it a quick nip, before sneaking out the tip of her tongue to soothe the sting. Rachel moaned throatily at the contact, moving her body as close to the other girl as possible. Grasping blindly with busy hands, she pushed Quinn's legs apart before moving to sit between then, placing her own legs on top of Quinn's, thighs resting on top of the other girl's extended legs and curling her legs behind the blonde's back. Quinn let out a moan of her own at the movement, gripping Rachel harder, pulling her until there was no space between them and they both gasped out of the kiss at the full body contact. Breathing heavily, the two girls sat silently for a few moments, foreheads resting against each other's and hands gripping, feeling as much as possible.

After a minute, Rachel couldn't stand not kissing the swelling lips before hers. Ducking her head slightly, she leaned in and recaptured Quinn's lips and was met instantly with a grateful moan. The two girls began to get lost in one another's touch, reveling in the softness and sweetness of each other's kiss. As their slow and sensuous movements became more heated and needy, Quinn once again captured Rachel's bottom lip and ran her tongue along its length, tasting and testing, willing Rachel to deepen the kiss as she pulled back slightly and allowed her mouth to fall open slightly. Feeling Quinn's insistence, the brunette returned her kiss with her lips parted. As her bottom lip fell between Quinn's once again, Rachel ran her tongue just along the inside of Quinn's top lip, causing the blonde to jerk slightly and let out a strangled moan of encouragement. They both pulled back just enough to reconnect their mouths fully, extending their tongues shyly and touching just barely. When Quinn felt the first flick of Rachel's tongue against her own, her world exploded behind her eyes and felt everything fall into place. This is what she was meant to do. This is who she was meant to be. This is her purpose, to love Rachel with everything she has. She let out a satisfied sigh and pulled Rachel as close as their bodies would allow before pouring every ounce of her being into the kiss. Mouths panted, tongues tangles, and hands gripped at every available surface as they moved together on the balcony, sinking everything they had into the kiss as all the pieces of the puzzle came together to form a beautiful picture.

They could be together, it would be ok. Everything would always be ok as long as they had each other.

Rachel felt drops of warm wetness on her fingers and slowly broke the kiss, peppering the blonde's mouth and face with sweet kisses as she retreated. She glanced up at Quinn, noticing the tears beginning to fall and the heartbreaking smile forming on her lips.

"Q, darling, what are these about?" Rachel wiped the tears from the blonde's face, lifting her eyes to hazel in concern.

"I just- I never thought this could actually happen. I mean, you wanting to be with me –a-after everything. I'm just so ridiculously happy and overwhelmed and I-I just - I can't get enough of you" the blonde trailed off as the attached their lips again greedily. A new dance of lips and tongues began as they clung together beneath the stars, basking in the gloriousness of their first kisses. "God, I love you so much."

Before Rachel could answer, the squeak of door hinges broke their moment as Hiram stepped out on to the balcony.

"I think it's time for you two to call it a night. Quinn, I'd like to speak with you briefly before you turn in, ok? I'll be in the kitchen."


	5. Chemistry

Chapter 3: Chemistry

Beginning Spring Semester, Junior Year

Her life is finally starting to get back to normal again, and she's realizing that she doesn't want it anymore. After the ridiculous debacle with Puck and Finn last year, she was determined not to let herself fall back into the same routine of lying and scheming for self-preservation. Her ego was too fragile back then, she would have never made it through the first year of high school under her father's watchful stare had she not established herself as a force to be reckoned with. When her life began to fall apart around her as a result of her pregnancy, she realized that popularity and the friendships that came with it simply weren't worth the trouble. She'd been kicked out of her home, out of her family, and the majority of her friends turned their backs on her when she needed them most. She'd found comfort and solace in Glee but she still craved the closeness of family, which is why she'd moved back in with her mother at the beginning of the summer. Their relationship was cautious at best, but they were working on it.

The holidays had been hard, but oddly relaxing to Quinn. She and her mother had kept things low-key, opting for a small fresh Christmas tree, which they decorated in only the ornaments left from her childhood, and placed on the large antique dining room table. Since her mom had kicked her father out for sleeping with a "tattooed freak", the two had taken to having their meals in the breakfast nook as a way to avoid talking about the man's lingering effect on their relationship. They'd grown more or less comfortable with their tenuous connection, which loosened in tiny increments every day.

She'd spent her entire summer getting her body back into shape and with her newfound determination and higher tolerance for pain; she'd managed to chisel her physique into the best shape of her life. Even now in the dead of the harsh Ohio winter, she ran the two miles to Parson's Park every morning before school in addition to the three hour Cheerios practice after school. She'd worked hard to regain her athleticism because she thought being head Cheerio defined who she was at school. Her position atop the pyramid secured her position atop the social ladder in a way she'd never be able to recreate without being on the team. She was sure the only way to regain the security of her social standing was to reclaim her position as head Cheerio, find an attractive piece of arm candy from the football team, and take home the title of prom queen. She'd managed to sell herself as a "reformed pregnant teen" to her church, which helped her manipulate herself back on the Cheerios. She'd hated herself for having to use a cash incentive to get back on the team, feeling as though her hard work would have secured her the spot without having to result to bribery. But knowing Coach Sylvester like she did, she was smart to have that option up here sleeve during tryouts.

When Sam Evans had snuck in under the radar and taken the quarterback position from Finn, Quinn thought she'd finally caught a break. Sam seemed like a really nice guy and had already started flirting with her. He was a nerd and a complete doofus, but he made her laugh and that seemed like enough at the time. Things had gone well at first. They were paired up in glee and spent a lot of time together after school. After a while, Quinn noticed that although Sam put on a show at school about how she didn't "put out" he never really tried to get anywhere with her. They'd made out a couple of times, but it seemed as though it happened out of obligation, because that's what couples were supposed to do. Quinn suspected there was an underlying cause to his strange behavior, and she realized what it was on one of the days they'd arranged to meet at the Lima Bean one day after school to work on some homework. She'd walked in uncharacteristically late after a particularly brutal Cheerios practice and Sam was sitting with his back to the door. She saw that he was talking to a dark haired boy wearing a private school uniform. She'd seen pictures of him before, when Kurt first went to Dalton Academy. 'Oh!' she thought, 'That must be Blaine, the guy Kurt is completely in love with.' Just as she was walking over to say hello and take her seat next to Sam, she noticed that Blaine was holding Sam's hand and talking to him in what seemed like a very calming and caring manner. She turned on her heels and walked right out the door. She intended to break it off with him the next day, but when she saw him and he explained that he was afraid of being gay and what coming out would mean for him. He'd approached Blaine because of his confidence and in him found a confidante and support system he'd never had before. She agreed to continue dating him until he was ready to come out. She didn't see the harm in helping him out, and this way she could retain her status and not have to worry about the sexual aspects of dating a guy she wasn't attracted to.

During her pregnancy, Quinn learned a few things about herself she wasn't ready to share with anyone. Her attraction to Finn had been for status only, and though he was a sweet boy, she was never physically drawn to him. With Puck, it had been the opposite. She had been momentarily attracted to him on a physical level because he was a "bad boy" and had plied her with alcohol and compliments on one of the days she'd felt the worst about herself. He was a complete jerk on the surface and everyone knew it, but he certainly knew how to turn on the charm if it meant he'd have a warm body in his bed.

The terrifying truth Quinn realized the day she got pregnant was that Rachel Berry was the only person who gave her butterflies. That morning at breakfast her father had told her to skip her usual bowl of cereal in favor of a low-fat smoothie because it looked as though she'd put on a few. She ran to school that day, all seven miles, before breaking down in the shower in the Cheerios locker room. She ran during lunch and again after school. Halfway home that afternoon she realized that although boys called her "hot" or "sexy", the only person who had ever called her beautiful was Rachel and it made her heart jump. She tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and fell to the pavement, deeply scraping the length of her calf and coating her sock and shoe in blood. Puck was driving by in his truck and offered her a ride home. She begged him to tell her she wasn't fat, that she was beautiful. He did because he knew it would get him laid. She ignored that because she needed to hear it from someone who wasn't Rachel Berry.

* * *

><p>From her perch on the roof outside her bedroom window, she could hear her Daddy on the phone with Shelby downstairs. He spoke in his typical calm tone, explaining the process of "baby's first tooth" in simple terms, reassuring her of its ease at every turn. This had become a reoccurring event in Rachel's life and had initially angered her to no end. How dare Shelby call her fathers for parenting advice? How could her fathers agree to be so accommodating to the woman who had hurt her so much? Why did Finn seem to not understand how big of a deal it was to her to see the mom she'd wanted so badly push her to the side and replace her a brand new baby? Once she realized that both Shelby and her dads were just ensuring that Beth was well taken care of, she'd stopped making it an issue, but it still hurt to catch pieces of those phone calls. She wondered at first if Quinn had ever thought about giving Beth to Shelby or if the whole thing had been her fault. When she'd spoken to Shelby at Regionals the previous spring, she'd told her that adopting Beth would be the perfect opportunity for her to get the baby she'd always wanted. Rachel heart broke as the words came out, but she knew that adopting Beth would not only give Shelby what she wanted, but would give Quinn the peace of mind that her daughter would be loved and cared for in a way she was not yet ready to provide. Despite the blonde's torment and years of bullying, Rachel cared for her deeply and desperately wanted her to feel as though she'd done right by her baby.<p>

When Quinn had gone into labor after their performance at Regionals, Rachel realized the depth of her feelings for the girl. She'd always found the girl beautiful and told her so on several occasions, but it was always met with resistance and disbelief. Rachel would reach out to Quinn, hoping to be friends or maybe more, and Quinn would shoot her down, teasing her for her looks and ambition or sending her lackeys to slushy her. Rachel was walking up to her to make sure she was alright immediately following their performance that day. She saw an older woman who she thought was Quinn's mom speaking to the girl and noticed that the blonde looked anxious and afraid. Rachel had just stepped up to the side of the girl when Quinn grabbed her swollen belly and cried out. Rachel grabbed her hand and placed her arm around the girl's back for support before calling out to Puck to call 911. She rode in the ambulance with Quinn, never once letting go of her hand, and was with her up until they wheeled the girl into the delivery room. Quinn's mom, Puck, and Mercedes had taken over at that point and Rachel left back to the auditorium letting her tears fall freely as she walked. They'd never spoken about that day, or at all really, since it happened and Rachel knew deep down that a relationship with Quinn Fabray was never going to happen for her.

She and Finn had reconciled and dated all summer. She was initially infatuated with the boy, but found as time went on that he was just another dumb guy underneath the goofiness and idiotic charm. For months they'd arranged their time around Finn's activities under the guise of "getting to know you". Rachel tried learning to play Halo, or football, even putting on a store bought cheerleading uniform for a pick-up game in the park because Finn requested it. She felt like a moron at the end of the day when instead of a thank you, she got a slobbering giant's fumbling hands trying to smoothly slide his hands up her skirt. She had been flattered by his persistence at first, thinking that he must really love her to want to physically express their love in such an intimate way. Before long though, she realized that Finn didn't want to make love to her, he wanted to fuck her and tell his friends all about it. Finding out about Finn sleeping with Santana had been the last straw for her. She knew he'd never stop pestering her to have sex with him and if she continued to say no, he'd find someone else and probably not break it off with her first. To say he didn't take it well would be an understatement. He yelled and screamed things, terrifying her in a way she'd never thought possible. Her Daddy bolted into the room when he heard breaking glass; Finn had thrown one of Rachel's trophies past her head into the mirror on her bathroom door when she'd said the words "I want to break up". Her Daddy grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him down the stairs, throwing him out the door on to the front lawn. Finn yelled the whole time, ranting about how he never really loved her and only wanted to get in her pants, how she'd always be alone because nobody would ever be able to put up with her bullshit for no reward. Finn finally left when Leroy threatened to call the cops. She hadn't seen him since the breakup happened just before winter break started.

* * *

><p>Both girls were relieved to be going back to school this morning. Quinn had grown tired of the tension in her household and her body was tired from the beating she'd given it over break, using working out as an excuse to not be home. Rachel's fathers had been overly cautious since her breakup with Finn, never letting her out of their sight and overcompensating with family activities. She was suffocating under their protective reach.<p>

AP Chemistry was one of Quinn's favorite subjects, though nobody would ever know by looking at her. She pretended not to care, like it was just another boring class to live through. In actuality she had already read the next seven chapters of the textbook covering what they'd be working on over the next few weeks. She reached the lab a few minutes early; the room was only down the hall from the Cheerios locker room where she showered after her run to school. When she walked in, she noticed that a new list of lab partners had been put up after the incident just before Christmas with Karofsky, the Bunsen burner, the candy cane, and Jimmy White's left arm. She reluctantly approached the list and saw the name **Rachel Berry** across from hers with a gold star next to it. She snickered to herself, realizing the girl must already be in the room if there was a gold star sticker on the list. As annoying as she sometimes found the girl, she did love that Rachel put a gold star next to her name on everything. She was right, metaphors are important.

Quinn took a deep breath and steadied her signature glare before turning around and starting toward their lab table. Rachel was already so immersed in the textbook that she didn't see Quinn approach. The blonde cleared her throat loudly and Rachel looked up, offering a small and apologetic smile at their new partnership. Quinn set her messenger bag down on the back of her chair and took out her supplies. Rachel noticed that Quinn had the same notebook she did, but when she opened her mouth to say as much, the intensity in Quinn's eyes stopped the words from forming and she gave another nervous smile and looked back down at her own book. Just as Quinn was opening her own mouth to make the observation, the teacher walked in and began taking attendance before launching straight in to the day's lecture.

Two weeks into the semester, the two girls had barely said a word to each other outside of "pass the saline solution" or "did you finish the homework?" The day's lesson had become increasingly tedious as half the class was having trouble understanding the process of balancing advanced chemical equations. Quinn noticed that both she and Rachel were spacing out due to boredom and decided to take a risk. She took out a sheet of loose-leaf paper, scribbled down a few words, folded it into a neat square, and slid it across the table top under Rachel's fidgeting hands. Rachel jumped in her seat when the paper hit her skin, causing the teacher and a few students to stare at her for a few moments. She apologized profusely, saying she'd gotten a chill, before they all shrugged and went back to the lesson. With a confused glance toward Quinn, she cautiously unfolded the paper and let out a sharp giggle when she read the note:

_Bunch of morons, huh? I'm guessing this lesson will take at least three weeks minimum. What do you think, Berry?_

She read the note at least four times before finally uncapping her pen and responding.

_I have no idea what you mean, Quinn. Perhaps they are just simply slower than you and I when it comes to this subject. Or perhaps they were all failing on purpose in an attempt to keep from having to move on to the next, more difficult chapter. We really have no way of knowing for sure._

Quinn let out a sharp, but silent, laugh when she read the response. She could hear Rachel's voice delivering the message and fought with herself over whether or not it was sarcastic.

_Berry, did you just make a joke?_

_I'm not without humor, you know, I can make jokes just like anyone else can. Why does everyone think I have no sense of humor?_

_I never said you didn't, I've just never heard (or read) you make a joke before. It was surprising, and oddly refreshing._

_Umm, thanks, I guess. I'm not entirely sure how to respond to that. Are you feeling ok?_

Rachel passed the paper across the table to Quinn's waiting hands. Her eyes focused on those delicate, but strong looking hands as they unfolded the paper and smoothed it out on the table top. The fingers on her left hand drummed lightly against the desk while a pen was seamlessly twirled along the knuckles of her right. She saw the blonde grip her pen and place the inked tip on the paper before lifting it again. She repeated this action several times before Rachel lifted her eyes to meet Quinn's. Seeing the confusion in the striking hazel eyes staring back at her, she reached across the table and slid the paper back towards herself. She wrote:

_I only ask because we have never had an interaction such as this before and I was wondering what had changed. Is there something you need me to do?_

Quinn was hurt by the implication. She just wanted to talk to the girl and finally saw the opportunity to start a conversation without anyone around to interrupt. She wanted to thank Rachel for staying with her in the intense moments before she'd given birth, wanted to tell her about all the problems with her family and how she'd give anything to go back in time and accept her friendship on any of the several occasions it had been offered. More than anything Quinn wanted to ask if, after everything she'd been through in the last year, Rachel still thought she was beautiful. Instead, she stared down at the paper briefly before jotting down a quick response:

_No, I was just bored. Sorry to bother you._

Rachel opened her mouth to apologize, to tell Quinn she was in no way bothered by her note or her apparent desire to talk to her. She wanted to let the other girl know that she was always there if she wanted to talk, or even if she just needed to listen. The bell rang out sharply and before she knew it, Quinn was gone.

The next few classes were quiet and busy for the two nervous girls. They went about their lessons and labs in unified quiet, neither wanting to upset the other by breaking their unofficial vow of silence. During a film on limiting reactants, Rachel finally caved in and slid a short message across the table. Quinn accepted the paper and returned it a few minutes later with her own comments. Both were inwardly elated to have such a simple yet unexpected connection.

The day of their next class, Quinn sat down with her usual supplies and a notebook Rachel hadn't seen before. Quinn sat down and flipped it open to the first page. It was a large, blue and white striped, thick, spiral notebook with blank pages on the inside. It appeared to be some sort of sketch book, made with special paper and with tons of extra pages and pockets. Quinn paused for a moment before writing out a short paragraph in small, precise, capital letters. She closed the notebook with a small smile and slid the book across the table to Rachel. The dark haired girl opened the cover and read the inscribed words on the first page.

_Rachel, if you still want to try and be friends, I'd love nothing more. I know it's a lot to ask after the way I've treated you in the past, but I'm ready to try and be friends with you now. I wasn't before. I thought since we pass notes in this class pretty often you might want to try passing notes outside of it too. This notebook can be ours; we can take it to classes we don't share and talk to each other by passing it back and forth. We can still talk out loud if you want, I'm just better when I'm not talking._

_Q._

Rachel grinned brilliantly, taking out a scrap of paper from her book bag, scribbling on it, and holding it up for Quinn to see.

_That sounds amazing. I go first?_

Quinn returned the brunette's gleaming smile before offering a happy nod. They both turned to face the teacher as the day's lesson began.

A/N: If you like or dislike what has been posted so far, please let me know. I'm not usually one to fish for reviews, but I'd at least like to know if this effort is worthwhile. Let me know! Thanks for reading!


	6. The Notebook

Chapter 4: The Notebook

Quinn Fabray has been sketching and doodling for as long as she can remember. Her mom suggested keeping a diary when she was a kid, but the little pink lock-with-a-key princess diaries never did the trick. She'd write nonsense for a few days and then abandon the book on a shelf in her room and never think about it until the next year when her mom picked up a new one assuming she'd run out of pages. She found comfort in graph paper, of all things, once she reached more advanced math classes in middle school. The perfect squares covering the page intrigued her, and she often found herself doodling on the back of her meticulous notes during breaks and lunch. Eventually, graph paper gave way to blank computer printer paper. Quinn grew more and more talented with her doodles as she progressed into high school, finding it difficult to concentrate in her "harder" classes, most of which she'd already mastered studying by herself at home. She found drawing comforting, it grounded her in a way writing never did. Quinn felt about drawing the way Rachel Berry felt about music, in some ways it was her only identity, but mostly it just gave her talent to hide behind.

In two years Quinn had gone through half a dozen sketchbooks, all of which were kept in an old banker's box labeled "school notes" under her bed. They were all shapes and sizes – some small enough to fit in your back pocket, the largest just small enough to lay flat on the bottom of the file box. Most were the size of a standard spiral bound notebook, allowing for easy access when the need to doodle sprang up in the middle of classes. Last weekend, Quinn came upon a sketchbook while in out with her mom for the day. The older Fabray had gone to meet with her lawyer for coffee to finalize the divorce papers and Quinn wandered around the area, not wanting to get in the middle of their meeting. She stumbled upon an art supply store and ducked in out of the snow. Upon first appearance, the store was average in every way. The walls of the main room were lined with different papers, canvas, paints, pencils and modeling tools. The faint smell of gesso and sawdust hung in the air, which Quinn quickly discovered was from the forming and stretching of canvases in the store. In the far back of the store, there was a steep spiral staircase leading to a tight looking mezzanine level, not much more than a catwalk cantilevering over the drafting aisle. The mezzanine was stacked floor to ceiling with books. She made her way up the stairs, pausing to admire the detail on the handrail, and found herself surrounded by walls of books on three sides. She made her way down the narrow catwalk, peering up at the shelves and admiring the vast collection of arts manuals, history books, gallery catalogues, and artist's books. At the end of the aisle, she noticed a single shelf holding books without words flowing up their spines. She cautiously pulled one from the shelf, subconsciously wincing away as the book was freed from the stack, expecting an avalanche. When the rest of the books miraculously stayed in place, she opened her eyes to find a beautiful blank sketchbook lay in her hands. It was thicker than any sketchbook she'd ever seen - almost two and a half inches – and made with very fine Bristol sketch paper. The cover was blue and white striped canvas stretched over sturdy cardboard, giving it the appearance of an old fashioned hardcover novel. The inside covers both had pockets built into the lining, and Quinn noticed there were different sized pockets scattered throughout the pages.

For some reason, the book reminded Quinn very strongly of a particularly chatty brunette, one that she'd been writing to fairly often and yearned to talk to at every opportunity. The thought of Rachel made her smile to herself, catching the attention of the young woman stocking the shelves in the aisle beneath her feet.

"You doin' all right up there?" the woman called out, startling Quinn out of her Rachel Berry fantasy world and causing her to jump.

She looked around, unsure of the source of the mysterious voice. She heard a whispered "motherfucker" from below her feet and saw a pair of bright grey eyes staring through the grate of the catwalk floor. "Anything I can help you with?" the voice called out

Quinn tucked the sketchbook under her arm and made her way back down the stairs. "Hi, uh, sorry I didn't see anyone else in here. Can you tell me how much this is?" she said, holding out the book to the girl.

"For you, gorgeous, fifteen bucks. I usually charge sixty cause it's handmade and takes for fucking ever to make so damn pretty, but since you're the first girl I've seen in here who is prettier than one of my books, I'll let it go for a steep discount." Quinn was uncomfortable, and the uncontrollable blush spreading over her neck and face wasn't helping matters.

"I, uh, I don't want any special treatment. If it's sixty dollars, I'll pay that."

"Girl, chill the fuck out. I'm not trying to get you to sleep with me, just pointing out that you are a very damn attractive human being. I'll settle for twenty so you don't get too uncomfortable. You lookin' for anything else, or just the book?"

"I think just the book will be fine for today. You said you made it? That's amazing, I mean, it's beautiful. Do you own this place?"

"I made it yeah, its a little side project of mine. I'm the manager of this place, but not the owner, that honor belongs to the dick I have to honor of calling my brother. The name's Liz." The young woman stuck her fist out, expecting Quinn to bump hers in return.

"Quinn" the blonde said slowly, curling her fingers into a fist and bringing her knuckles to the other girl's. She let out a short laugh as the girl across from her wiggled her fingers back toward her body while making an explosion sound with her mouth.

* * *

><p>That sounds amazing, I go first?<p>

When Quinn nodded, offering the first pages of their new notebook for her to write on, Rachel's smile threatened to take over her entire face. She was uncertain of how what to think when she and Quinn first began passing notes regularly, but never considered the possibility that the blonde might want to talk to her outside of their boring shared classes. She racked her brain for the next two periods, trying to figure out what would be suitable to de-virginize the new sketchbook. She finally landed on one of her favorite songs as the last fifteen minutes of last period were drawing to a close. She picked up her favorite pen and began to write.

_"Say anything, but say what you mean."_

_Quinn,_

_I'm not really certain which format I should be using here. This is clearly meant for socializing and as such I believe it detours from more formal social protocol. Still, as a first entry into what I hope will become a lengthy account of our forming friendship, I believe writing this in the form of a letter will be beneficial to us both. I suppose I should begin with a simple apology for doubting your intentions a few weeks ago when you first passed me a note in class. I was confused, to say the very least, and worried that you might be trying to play a prank on me like you did freshman year. I realize now that you were bored and wanted to talk to someone and I just happened to be the only one around. I sincerely hope you're willing to look past our differences so we can move on and try to have a normal friendship without constantly bickering about boys or being nervous about ulterior motives._

_I'd really like to get to know you, Quinn, and I hope you feel the same way. I've determined that you are at least a little curious about me, since you're the one who produced this beautiful book for us to write in. Where did it come from? I've never seen anything like it._

_With optimism for a bright friendship to come,_

_Rachel Berry_

* * *

><p>Quinn laughed out loud when she read the very formal first entry in their book. She also wondered if Rachel planned on signing every note with a gold star sticker. For a moment she felt guilty for making the other girl think she'd been trying to trick her, until she remembered that she had unintentionally done exactly that freshman year.<p>

Quinn and Rachel had never really been friends. They'd seen each other around school but never spoke or even acknowledged each other's existence. Quinn had begun to notice the girl more, realizing they shared most of their classes. She'd found a way to zero in on the girl in the hallways when she picked up on the fact that Rachel was almost always singing or humming in some way. She was entranced and decided that with a little work and help from the popular crowd, she could make Rachel popular and then they could hang out. She posted a message on Rachel's MySpace page telling her at the Lima Shopping Center Saturday morning after Cheerios practice. She said that she had misjudged the girl and wanted to make up for lost time by spending the day at the mall. Quinn, Santana, and Brittany arrived early, practice having been cut short because one of the girls fell off the pyramid and broke her arm. The mall was packed, as it usually was on Saturday afternoon and the sheer numbers of teenagers made the food court seem a lot like the high school cafeteria. The Cheerios were just sitting down at a table when Quinn spotted Rachel making her way over from the nearest entrance. The second the brunette opened her mouth and started talking a mile a minute Quinn held up her hand to silence the girl and motioned for her to step away from the busy table. They ducked out of earshot of the table and Quinn opened her mouth to tell Rachel to relax and try not to talk so much (Quinn thought that was the root of all her problems.) Just as the words started to come out, something ran into Quinn from behind, hard, launching the giant slushy Quinn had just bought directly into the smaller girl's face. Rachel froze and gasped for air, feeling the icy corn syrup ooze down her shirt and through her clothes, pooling inside of her shoes. Santana immediately burst out laughing as Quinn's eyes grew wide with a mixture of horror and apology. She stared at her own hand, then back at Rachel as the diva's eyes watered and Quinn watched her fight back tears. She opened her mouth to apologize as Karofsky and the jocks walked over from the other side of the food court. They took one look at the dripping girl and all began to laugh. Quinn saw the first of the girl's tears clean a path through the bright red goo on her face as she turned on her heels and ran back the way she'd come in. Quinn wanted to run after her and beg for the girl's forgiveness, but Finn's hand on her lower back and Santana's laughter in her ears left her frozen in place. She stared helplessly as Rachel pushed through the crowd of people blocking the exit, holding back her own tears. She'd never apologized, believing Rachel would never forgive her. As far as Rachel knew, Quinn had done it on purpose and began the unique McKinley torture that was slushying. The diva had been slushied almost every day since the incident at the mall, and though Quinn never did it again, she was the founder of the institution whether she wanted to be or not.

Quinn began to softly cry at the memory, trying her hardest not to let the salty wetness drip from her chin onto the pristine paper of the notebook. She didn't have the right to cry, especially not because of something she had done to Rachel, not when the other girl had suffered so much because of her. Quinn had been ashamed and unwilling to forgive herself after the slushy incident; she felt unworthy of the girl's friendship and didn't feel she had any right to try and earn it. She'd mostly stayed out of Rachel's way, save for their few public arguments about Finn. Quinn was jealous of the guy, furious that he was spending time with Rachel when she couldn't. She'd put on a show by arguing with the girl, showing the school that she was still on top but internally praying her harsh words would keep the girl out of her life. She couldn't bear to have the girl near her, not when she was responsible for establishing the daily horror of bullying the smaller girl endured. It wasn't until Rachel approached her after revealing the secret of her baby's true paternity that Quinn realized something she'd never even considered before. Rachel didn't hate her. Rachel didn't even dislike her. This whole time, Rachel wanted Quinn's friendship just as much as Quinn wanted Rachel's. She'd made a promise to herself that she'd start making amends with the brunette. They were civil to one another, able to have short conversations in glee, but the lack of time spent together made it difficult to achieve more than that. The fact that Rachel was dating her ex-boyfriend made things even more complicated.

The first day back to school after Christmas Vacation was a godsend for Quinn. She'd heard that Finn and Rachel had a terrible break up over vacation that almost led to Finn being arrested. Her spirits lifted when she saw that she and Rachel had been made lab partners in Chemistry class. The pieces were finally falling into place but she moved too quickly. There were so many things she wanted to say to the smaller girl that she didn't think to ease the girl into the prospect of being friends after all this time. She'd had her feelings hurt when Rachel asked about her intentions. They bounced back, beginning a slow communication, one short note at a time. Quinn was finally feeling confident enough in their tenuous friendship to increase their communications when she stumbled upon the notebook in the art store downtown. It was perfect. They could write down everything they were feeling towards each other without having to worry about reactions because they wouldn't be face to face when they read each other's words. She could apologize to Rachel for everything without having to relive the painful moments in the expressions on Rachel's face. She could also let Rachel tell her off for all of her indiscretions without having to break down in front of the other girl. It was the best idea she'd ever had.

_Rach,_

_Don't ever apologize. You've never done anything to hurt me, especially not anywhere near what I've done that has hurt you in the past. I'll make sure you're never slushied again. I may not be a Cheerio anymore, but they still listen to me._

_I'm so incredibly sorry for everything I've done to you. More than anything I'm sorry for the slushy at the mall. I know you'll never believe it wasn't on purpose because of the way I reacted and the fallout that stemmed from it, but it was, and I'm so thankful to finally have the opportunity to tell you how sorry I am, even after all this time. You can tell me anything in here, and I promise you it will always stay between us._

_I really hope you'll be able to forgive me for my past someday, I'll wait, you're worth it. I think we can be great friends once we move past all the bullshit in the past._

_Q_


	7. Getting To Know You

A/N: Things are getting busy around here! I'll most likely update in batches (several chapters at once, more time in between) for a little while until things settle down. As usual, comments, questions, and reviews are always welcome.

Chapter 5: Getting to Know You

Once Rachel had gotten over the initial shock of Quinn Fabray offering her a friendship, she dove head first into the "get to know you" process. The past few weeks had been blissful. Quinn apologized for tossing the first slushy (accidental or not, she was just glad for the apology) and guaranteed it wouldn't happen every again. So far, she'd held fast to her promise. Rachel had gone 23 days without having to shower and change her clothes due to a corn syrup mishap and it felt as though she was walking on air. After reading Quinn's initial entry into the notebook, Rachel had grown more comfortable with the idea of getting to know the girl and they began to explore each other in writing, occasionally through drawing in Quinn's case. They'd managed to avoid a lot of the major topics, Beth, Finn, Puck, and Shelby mainly, and focused on safer subjects such as Glee and school.

Rachel was elated to finally have someone to call a friend. Sure, she'd had acquaintances over the years, but nobody who really understood her; nobody who ever really wanted to. She looked across the busy gym to the bleachers under the basketball scoreboard where the blonde was busy writing in their notebook. She smiled to herself, watching the way Quinn mouthed the words she was writing very subtly, almost imperceptibly. She watched the way the girl's hair was falling out of her messy ponytail, not quite long enough to stay up in the tight style required by the Cheerio's dress code she no longer had to follow. She looked relaxed and carefree, like Rachel had never seen her before, and Rachel thought she was the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen. A basketball whizzed by her head, narrowly missing her nose, and Rachel snapped out of her tunnel vision to glare at the girls who had sent the ball sailing her way. Tina shyly jogged up and grabbed the ball from behind Rachel, apologizing softly before returning to the court. As the diva continued to stare off in the direction of the basketball court, she felt eyes on her and turned just in time to see Quinn look back down at the notebook. She watched the blonde again, half paying attention the basketball game so she didn't get hurt, taking in the perfection of the other girl's features until Santana stormed out from behind her, nearly knocking her down as she made her way to the bleachers and Quinn. She saw the blonde girl finish up her entry in the notebook with a smirk before turning her attention to the fuming Latina.

After lunch, she found the notebook in her locker with a post-it note. "Bet you'd like to know how I pulled this one off, huh Berry?" She grinned before grabbing her books and making her way to class. Once situated at her usual desk in history, she flipped to the latest entry in the notebook. Quinn seemed eager to get to know everything about her. Her note was long, longer than anything else she'd written in the notebook so far, and contained only questions.

**Rach!**

**What do you do after school? I see you getting into your father's car every day after glee, but where do you go? What's your favorite color? I've noticed that most of your school clothes and stuff are in the pink/purple/pastel family, why is that? Are Mary Janes really comfortable, or do you wear them specifically to look demure and innocent? I know that French fries are vegan (or can be), but do you like them or eat them at all? I know you're pretty into healthy food, but who can resist fries, right? Can I text you sometime? My number is 419-749-3993, what's yours? **

**I see you across the gym staring off into space, what are you looking at? Do you play any sports? **

**I have to get going, Santana looks like she's about to go off about something and I really don't want to deal with her making a scene today. She can be such a bitch sometimes, you know? **

**I'm going to leave this in your locker today. You'll be surprised and a little freaked out that I got in there without you knowing and I'm already laughing a little to myself. Talk to you soon, little B.**

**Q**

* * *

><p>Quinn had quickly become obsessed with finding out all about the Rachel she had avoided for so long. She had so many questions, so many things she had to find out, and even though she had all the time in the world to discover everything about the girl, Quinn wanted to know everything right now. This urge translated into a playful banter between the two girls, Rachel constantly flustered by the steady stream of questions and Quinn coming up with new and strange things to ask.<p>

Quinn sat at her favorite table in her favorite diner with a cup of sweet black coffee and her laptop in front of her. She plugged in her headphones and turned on her "Shakespeare's Work Mix" on Pandora before pulling out her books and pencils and starting to organize her study materials.

Shakespeare's Diner had been her refuge when she was pregnant and needed to get out of Puck's basement. They had great diner coffee (decaf, of course, when she was pregnant) and the best fries in town. The small restaurant was situated on the bottom level of an old factory building. The walls were covered with pages of various plays that had been torn out of their books and plastered over one another to create wallpaper. The one wall that differed was exposed brick and separated the dining area from the kitchen. The booths were made of deep red vinyl and offset with black and white tables. The ceilings, at a towering 12 feet, were lofty and bare. Colorful glass pendant lights hung low over each table, no two were the same, and bright white light shot up the walls from sconces that were evenly spaced along the length of the space. It was still under the radar – the blonde literally stumbled upon it the day she'd been kicked out of her home – and it quickly turned into a safe haven. Juliet, the older woman who owned the place, had taken it upon herself to look after the sullen looking girl after she'd seen her doing homework with her books sprawled out over the tables every day for two weeks. After Quinn had a panic attack looking for a wireless signal one day while working on a research paper, Juliet installed a wireless router for the diner patrons. Even now that she'd moved back in with her mother, Quinn still felt more comfortable in her worn out booth in the corner than in her own house. She'd just gotten settled in for a long night of pre-calculus when her phone vibrated in her pocket.

She looked down at the screen and saw a message from an unknown number.

**Quinn! This is my number, since I haven't had the opportunity to give the notebook back to you yet. I'll be sure to get it back to you as soon as possible. You did ask a lot of questions…**

Quinn chuckled to herself, knowing full well who had just texted her. She saved the number in her phone before replying.

**QF: Hey there you! I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon. What are you up to?**

**RB: I'm just working on some pre-cal. We did receive a ridiculous amount of work this afternoon, you know? Are you working on it as well?**

**QF: I just started actually. It seems that we're in for a long night. Are you ready to answer some of my questions?**

**RB: Well, I can't very well sit here on my phone the entire time I'm trying to do my homework. It takes too long to type out long messages. Do you have a computer? We can Facebook chat? Wait, are we Facebook friends?**

Quinn took a deep breath, knowing she'd let Santana decline Rachel's friend requests on multiple occasions. She was embarrassed once again about her treatment of the girl and promised herself once again that she would make it right.

**QF: I'm on my laptop right now. Sign on to Facebook and I'll send you a friend request.**

* * *

><p>Rachel logged onto her Facebook, idly wondering if she'd friend requested Quinn before. She was almost certain she had, but knowing their previous relationship, it wasn't surprising that Quinn would have declined it. She opened her profile and turned away from her laptop. She had her study materials sprawled out over the kitchen table, finding that her desk was too small for her growing amount of homework. She stepped away from the table into the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water. Her phone chimed twice in her pocket and she looked down at the screen, knitting her brow in confusion when she saw that it was from Quinn.<p>

**QF: Did you get the request? I sent it just now**

**QF: Are you still there?**

Rachel laughed at the desperation of the message. When had Quinn Fabray turned into such a nervous wreck? She was relieved to see that Quinn really was trying to make things right, and amused that she seemed to fear rejection just as much as Rachel did. Putting her phone back in her pocket, the brunette made her way back to the kitchen table. She sat down at her laptop and approved the friend request from Quinn. Almost instantaneously a chat box popped up in the bottom of her screen.

**Quinn Fabray**: Hey. I wasn't sure if you'd gotten my request or not.

**Rachel Berry**: I did. I went to the kitchen to get a drink while I was waiting for you to send it. I was only gone for a minute!

**Quinn Fabray:** Oh, sorry. I guess I freaked out a little bit. I hope you don't think I'm a weirdo or anything, I just want to talk to you. :/

**Rachel Berry**: Aww, thanks. I think you're a super weirdo, but that was sweet.

**Quinn Fabray**: Thanks Berry, that was nice of you. Now answer my damn questions!

**Rachel Berry: **So impatient. I hope you know that is very unbecoming of a lady. You should work on that.

**Quinn Fabray**: I'll have you know that I'm very patient Berry, more than you know. Besides, I'm not worried about coming off as a "lady". I mean, I did get pregnant and have a baby my boyfriend's best friend. All I'm worried about is no longer coming off as a tramp.

**Rachel Berry: **You're not a tramp, Quinn. I never thought you were.

Quinn smiled to herself, but didn't reply.

**Rachel Berry: **Now, about these questions.

**Rachel Berry: **Most days after school my daddy picks me up and we go to the grocery store and pick out what we're going to cook for dinner. My daddy is a third grade teacher at the elementary school so he gets out just a short while before we do. Picking me up is on his way home and shopping for dinner had become something of a tradition for us.

**Rachel Berry: **Contrary to many of my clothing choices- which I will fill you in on in just a moment- my favorite colors are in the red/orange/yellow family. I like bold colors, but have found that I don't particularly like to wear them because they draw unnecessary attention.

Quinn smiled again, letting out a low chuckle at the idea that Rachel Berry would ever find attention unnecessary. She thought about what that could mean for a moment before realizing that Rachel's wardrobe choices were probably to keep her from attracting too much attention from the people who bullied her at school. Bullies like her. Quinn bit her lip and prepared for words that would confirm her fears while she watched the chat bar in the bottom of the screen "Rachel Berry is typing…"

**Rachel Berry**: To be honest, when I first began dressing the way I do it was simply because I'd yet to grow out of the phase where I found animal sweaters and plaid skirts appealing. I still find them to be comfortable, but most days I'd much prefer to wear a nice sun dress or even jeans with a simple top. When the slushying began I couldn't bear the thought of my nice clothes being ruined on a daily basis, so I never bothered wearing them to school. You should notice, however, that since I haven't been slushied in a few weeks I've begun to branch out in my clothing selections. For instance, I wore a lovely red dress yesterday and today I used my favorite headband without fear of it being permanently damaged by food dyes. I think progress is being made, don't you?

* * *

><p>Quinn's heart was pounding out of anger and resentment for herself. She never stopped to consider how deeply her actions had affected the smaller girl. Sure, she'd seen her running off toward the bathroom in tears covered in corn syrup on countless occasions, but the idea that her clothing choices were a direct result of her torment had never truly occurred to her. She wondered what other things Rachel was holding back, how else had her life changed because of the relentless teasing by her peers.<p>

**Quinn Fabray**: Rachel, I'm so sorry you ever had to go through any of that. I know most of it is my fault, and I know I can't ever take it all back, but I want you to know that I'll never stop trying to make it up to you. You're amazing. You're probably the most amazing person I've ever met and I'm so sorry for ever making you doubt that

**Rachel Berry**: Quinn, at some point you're going to have to stop apologizing for the past. You've apologized and I've accepted. I forgive you. As long as it never happens again, we'll be ok.

**Quinn Fabray**: Never again, I swear it.

**Rachel Berry**: Good. Now, to continue with the questions (which you will be answering as soon as I'm finished).

**Rachel Berry**: I am a very big fan of French fries. They are perhaps the only food I am willing to bend my strictly vegan diet for.

**Quinn Fabray**: *gasp*

**Rachel Berry**: Quit it. Let me explain. For French fries to be truly vegan, they must be prepared using non-animal product based cooking oil. Most venues use vegetable or peanut oil anyhow. The issue I find is that most restaurants also cook meat or cheese items in the same fryer, i.e. chicken fingers, mozzarella sticks, jalapeno poppers, etc. While I cannot approve of the consumption of these products, I am willing to overlook the fact that my fries may have come in contact with them if they are good enough that I cannot bring myself to care. This is my guilty pleasure and it cannot be denied.

Quinn burst out laughing, causing Juliet to look her way with a confused yet happy smile. The old woman had noticed a change in the girl in the past few weeks. She seemed more relaxed, more free. Several patrols had turned to the girl at her outburst. Quinn muttered an apology to the burly man glaring at her from a nearby table before returning to her laptop.

**Quinn Fabray**: LOL! That is amazing. I've never heard such a declaration over French fries before! I may have to print that out and tape it in the notebook so I have a record of your vegan non-compliance to rub in your face whenever I feel like it. You are adorable.

_Damnit! I didn't mean to type that_. Quinn mentally slapped herself for carelessly complimenting the girl. She thought it was too early in their friendship for sentiments like that, especially since she'd spent so long tearing down the other girl for her appearance. _God, I should have been saying this all along. She's so beautiful. And adorable. And so cute in her tiny skirts. Maybe cute isn't the right word for that. Hot… sexy, perhaps? _Whoa. Where did that come from?

* * *

><p>Rachel stared at the blinking curser for a moment, torn over what to respond to the unexpected compliment. Quinn called her adorable. Is this what friends did? They flatter each other with idle praise? She didn't know. She'd never been close enough with anyone for that type of conversation. Was she supposed to say thank you? To compliment Quinn in return? What if Quinn really meant it? Was she flirting? Oh god, no, Quinn would never flirt with her. Quinn is a straight, very straight, pregnant at 16 straight, girl. <em>Get a grip, Berry<em>. She heard Quinn's voice in her head. Rachel took a deep breath, realizing how close to the edge of a panic attack she was getting. _Relax, Rachel, deep breaths. She was just being nice. Maybe there is protocol for this type of interaction between friends. You think she's adorable, and smart, and beautiful, and everything the perfect girl ever could and should be. There is nothing wrong with saying so, it's not like she's going to know you mean it as more than just an idle compliment. _Rachel smiled and let out a sigh of relief before turning back to her keyboard.

**Rachel Berry:** You're pretty adorable yourself, Quinn Fabray.

* * *

><p>Quinn bit her lip to hold in her giddy squeal. <em>Rachel thinks I'm adorable!<em> The phrase repeated like a mantra in her head. She was so caught up in her happiness she didn't notice Juliet approaching from the counter.

"Quinn, you want some more coffee?"

"Quinn. Earth to Quinn."

"QUINN!" Juliet nearly screamed before tapping the blonde lightly on the shoulder. Quinn jumped, startled by the woman's presence and knocking her textbooks off the table to land with a resounding thud on the concrete floor.

"Ohmygod! Juliet. What the hell?"

"I called your name three times, honey. More coffee?" Quinn nodded lightly and Juliet tipped the coffee pot over the girl's cup. "You about ready for supper yet?" Quinn nodded again before realizing that the older woman had begun to walk away. The burly man nearby got up from his seat to leave and the screeching of his chair snapped Quinn out of her daze.

"Thanks Jules!" she called out across the diner, earning a warm smile from the woman as she slid the ticket through the window to the kitchen.

Turning her attention back to her computer screen, Quinn realized that Rachel had answered the remaining questions when she had spaced out.

**Rachel Berry:** Well, you already have my phone number, obviously, so there is no longer a need to give that to you.

**Rachel Berry:** I believe the moment you are referring to in the gym was when I was almost hit in the face with a basketball this afternoon. The ball flew by my nose so closely I could smell the leather and I turned to glare at the reckless students who sent it flying in my direction. I felt someone looking at me in that moment as well, perhaps it was you.

**Rachel Berry:** I am not a big fan of contact sports. I do, however, enjoy swimming, sailing, and several other water sports.

**Rachel Berry:** As for your final question, yes, I agree that Santana Lopez can be a complete bitch sometimes.

**Quinn Fabray:** Rachel Berry! Did you really just call Santana a bitch? Hang on, let me call her and let her know.

**Rachel Berry:** DON'T YOU DARE, FABRAY!

**Quinn Fabray:** I would never. Besides, she already knows, so what's the point?

**Rachel Berry:** Haha, I'm sure she does. Ok, Quinn, now you get to answer.

**Quinn Fabray:** Alright, no problem. After school I usually head to the diner to do my homework and hang out. I don't get a ride anywhere because my mom bought me a car when I moved back in. It was a gift to assuage her guilt, but it works out for both of us, so I never contested it. I'm there until my mom gets out of work at 11. She's working as a concierge at the Marriot downtown. It's perfect for her because she gets to play the perfect host all day long. She actually has a law degree, but after she met my dad, she never bothered to take the BAR exam. Lame, I know.

**Quinn Fabray:** My favorite colors are blue and grey. I'm drawn to cooler colors because they relax me. I think dark charcoal may be my favorite, but it is subject to change day to day.

**Quinn Fabray: **French fries are probably my favorite food. The diner makes the best I've ever tasted. You'll have to join me one day.

**Quinn Fabray**: As for sports, you already know that I was a Cheerio, obviously. I did that mainly because I'm really good at it. I do love not being a Cheerio right now, it's a lot of added stress and taking a break has been very good for my mental health. I'm sure next year I'll have to go back though, because with things the way they are now, I'll need to get a scholarship to get out of this town for college. Other than that, I'm a big baseball fan. I played little league baseball until I was 12 and my dad told me that baseball was for boys once I started middle school. I never really liked softball and my dad wouldn't have let me play anyway, he thinks softball is for lesbians. My dad is a dick, in case you were wondering.

* * *

><p>While Quinn awaited Rachel's response to her answers, Juliet appeared at Quinn's table with her usual order. In front of her were a bacon cheeseburger, medium, extra grilled onions, no pickles; a double order of fries, and a glass of sweet tea. Juliet smirked down at Quinn as she watched the blonde burn her mouth on a scalding hot French fry, "I still have no idea where you put all this food, but if you keep smiling like you have been all night, I'll keep re-filling the fry basket".<p>

**Rachel Berry**: I see. Wow, that was a lot of information very quickly. I'll need you to tell me more about this diner; it sounds very interesting and must be a great place if you spend so much of your time there. I've never seen you wearing subdued colors such as blue and grey, but I think they suit you. Again, we'll have to explore that further. I believe that if you don't like cheerleading, you should consider other options for scholarships. There is no point dragging yourself through Cheerios training if you don't need to. I'll help you in any way you need. Moving on from the fact that your father is a "penis", I'm assuming you're not a lesbian because you don't play softball? J/K.

Quinn choked on a French fry, grasping for her tea and chugging it to clear her airway. She stared at the screen for a moment before shrugging and saying "what the hell" to herself.

**Quinn Fabray: **Assume and make an ass out of you and me, Berry.

She smirked to herself as she imagined Rachel's reaction to her (joking) confession before continuing.

**Quinn Fabray:** I'm having the best fries in town as we speak. Care to join me?


End file.
